


day two

by julek



Series: Winterfest 2020 [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julek/pseuds/julek
Summary: Jaskier never dresses for the weather, but Geralt comes prepared.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winterfest 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041318
Comments: 7
Kudos: 124





	day two

Deep into the forests of Kaedwen, just off the main road, there’s a cave. It’s a nice cave, objectively; it’s spacious and mostly dry, and there are no monsters or creatures of any kind in the vicinity. It’s cozy, even, when there’s a fire burning and stories being shared around it.

“It was really nice, seeing Ciri before winter,” Jaskier says around a mouthful of jerky. “I hope she’ll join us next year, though.”

Geralt hums in agreement. Ciri’s spending winter with Yennefer, and he misses her already, can’t wait for the first hints of spring so he can make his way south, meet them somewhere along the Pontar. 

“How many days to the keep, now?” 

Geralt looks out, where the wind is furiously howling. “Two, if we set out early tomorrow.”

It was Jaskier’s sixth winter at Kaer Morhen, yet Geralt could still smell excitement rolling off him in waves as if it were the first time. Jaskier still gaped and his eyes still glinted with mirth as they made their way up the Killer, just as the first blocks of stone came into view. He still sighed dreamily as he overlooked the Blue Mountains from Geralt’s window, wrapped in nothing but the heaviest fur blanket they could find, the one the bard had claimed for himself as soon as he stepped into the stone-cold fortress. It was worn and frayed at the edges, but the way the dark fur hugged his pale skin made Geralt’s ears burn.

Seeing Jaskier wander around the keep, his notebook in one hand and a quill in the other, waiting for inspiration to come to him still made Geralt catch his breath. To watch him share a table with his brothers, to listen to his and Vesemir’s long talks, about poetry and history and men, to feel his smile against his chest as they laid together, legs tangled under the blankets — it all seemed too good to be true. To know that his home became the bard’s, as well.

“Geralt.”

He comes out of his reverie as Jaskier moves closer. The tip of his nose has gone bright pink, and Geralt can’t help but press a kiss to it, Jaskier’s laughter filling the silence in the cave.

“You’re shivering,” he says with a frown. Jaskier never, ever dresses for the weather — Geralt knows. After that first winter in which they’d reached the keep in a week instead of two, solely because otherwise, the bard would have frozen to death. Geralt knows, so he comes prepared.

He leaves Jaskier’s side for a moment, grabbing one of his saddlebags. He pulls out a cloak that’d been folded too many times, and stretches it on the cold ground. The deep blue fabric is tightly sewn to the thick wool, and putting it on feels like standing in the sun on a hot summer day, which had been one of Geralt’s indications to the tailor.

“What’s that?” Jaskier yawns, tightening the thin blanket around him. 

Geralt sits back down, this time throwing the cloak over Jaskier’s shoulders. It’s big enough for the two of them, still Jaskier wraps himself around the Witcher’s body. Geralt winds his arms around Jaskier’s waist, adjusting the cloak so it covers Jaskier’s ears and the crook of his neck. He makes a quiet content noise, and Geralt rests his head on top of Jaskier’s.

“You know,” Jaskier murmurs, “you’ll never live this down.”

“Hmm?”

“When Eskel and Lambert see you’ve had a blanket custom made to fit the both of us,” Jaskier explains, and his eyes look almost transparent as he looks up at Geralt, framed by the deep blue fabric. “They’ll have good reason to call us a disgusting, old married couple.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. It’s true, the minute his brothers see them approach the keep, hands joined and shoulders knocking against each other under their shared cloak, he’ll be in for a long winter of relentless teasing. 

But if he closes his eyes and concentrates a little, he can picture it just right: Jaskier’s scent, sweet lavender and honey filling every crack and crevice of Kaer Morhen, his voice carrying through the long halls and corridors. His blue eyes sharp and alert even in the early hours of the morning, as he tries to convince Geralt to stay in bed a little longer — the wicked smile that he wears when Geralt relents and pins him to the soft mattress, when he knows they’ll definitely be late for breakfast. The way Geralt’s heart beats almost as fast as a human’s, when he walks into their room and just knows he’ll find his bard there, clothes haphazardly thrown on the floor, hair disheveled and ink-stained fingers, as he furiously scribbles onto some parchment — the way he knows it’s all worth it, if it means he gets to come home to open arms and sleepy smiles.

“Yeah,” he whispers, nuzzling at Jaskier’s temple. “They will.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow this series on [tumblr](http://julek.tumblr.com/tagged/winter%20prompts)!


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